A Phone Call
by Cerrone17
Summary: Erica is daydreaming in her office when she receives a call.


It was around 11 in the morning. Not quite late enough yet for a lunch break, and Erica had already taken a tea break at 10:30. A formidable stack of paper sat atop her desk, threatening to tumble into all, presumably thousands, of its component parts. Applications and clearances and declarations for Franky's in-house university degree. She sighed, again looking at the clock hanging on her wall. It was going to be another one of those endless days in Wentworth. The kind where everything goes wrong and needs immediate attention to avoid some kind of violent outbreak from the women. She had seen enough of them to be able to tell when they were on their way. Erica was getting better at dealing with whatever the prison would throw at her. Getting better at explaining it to her superiors, and the press. The journalists were never far from Wentworth's gate, sniffing the air for trouble. For now Erica sat at her desk, waiting for the clock to hit 12. Hey eyes drifted lazily out the window in her office. The deep blue sky stretched against the window frame, wanting to spill out into her dull and uninteresting office. The colour of it reminded her of when she was a child. When she had gone to the beach with her family on days like this. She loved the feeling of being lifted off the sand beneath her feet by the waves. As if she were hoisted off the land and could drift endlessly out into the sea. Erica was dying for a swim.

The phone on her desk reeled the Governor's mind back into the room. Its electronic ring reminding her that there was work still needing to be done. Applications, clearances, declarations…

"Erica Davidson speaking," It was like clockwork now, an automatic reaction. Every time she picked up the phone her lips formed the same words in the same tone, like the receiver had become an extension of her own body. As familiar with this piece of plastic as she was her arm, or her foot.

"Fancy a chat?" As familiar a routine answering the phone was to Erica, the voice on the other end of the line made her stammer. She could sense the obstacles Wentworth threw at her before they arrived, and this one was big. The importance of the documents on her desk seemed so slight in comparison to the mammoth task of now trying to get thoughts of Franky Doyle out of her head. Not that the woman was ever far from her thoughts anyway.

"Franky? How did you.." Erica, though she hardly noticed, was smiling to herself. Her brain was already rapidly trying to process how on earth Franky had called her. At least it wasn't another journalist asking about her thoughts on increase in violent incidents while she was Governor of Wentworth.

"I'm required by law to tell you that this call may be recorded, is that alright with you, Erica?" She could practically hear the grin on Franky's face, probably very proud of herself that she'd managed to get hold of the Governor's number.

"Franky, this.. You can't…" Erica was speechless, unable to comprehend how, why..

"I just thought I'd call you up and see how you're going. It's been hard in here, you know. So far away from you.."

Stubbs of words slipped from Erica's mouth. This was stupid. So stupid. She should hang up before they were caught. And though she was quite familiar with this particular phone, she found herself unable to end the call.

Franky continued, "You know on those long nights I feel like I'm going crazy… Locked up in my cell like that. D'you know what I mean?"

Still her mind seized with thoughts, how on Earth had Franky gotten this number? And where was she calling from? Were there people around to hear her?

"You there, Erica?"  
"Don't call me that," she was finally able to spit out. "If somebody hears you…" She spoke quickly, worried that one of the guards or receptionist would overhear their conversation. She couldn't imagine having to explain this situation to anyone else. That was something she very much wanted to avoid.

"What do you want me to call you? Mi-.." Erica cut her off, hastily interjecting.

"No! Not that either. Franky…" Again she considered hanging up. Before any trouble came of it. She felt like the was 14 again. Talking on the phone in her room late at night. Any moment now Erica was sure someone was going to burst in and tell her to go to bed. It made her heart quicken.

She could practically hear Franky beaming down the line during the silence.

"…Babe?"

Erica pursed her lips. She can't believe what she's about to say. She closes her eyes tight and rubs her forehead. "Fine."

A chipper laugh spilled down the phone, "You've certainly changed your tune, hey babe?" Franky was thoroughly amused.

Erica couldn't believe this was happening. She could hardly convince Franky to call her Miss Davidson. But now… Now it would be near impossible. She imagined how the woman's lips would look as she said the word, and was struck motionless when she imagined Franky calling her babe with those same lips pressed against her ear. It was almost exactly how she wanted it to be.

"Look," Erica was trying to regain some authority, "you wanted to talk. So let's talk." She leaned back on her chair, falling again into her daily routine of defensive phone conversations. The effort, however, was wasted on Franky, who carried on as usual. As bold as ever. It was useless, really. Trying to deter Franky by being cold. It always seemed to make her push harder.

"What are you wearing?" A smile broke across Erica's face, she could hardly believe what she was hearing. Franky was unbelievably confident, and that was something that the Governor found irresistible.

"I don't think that's an appropriate question, Franky." Erica laughed while she spoke, still baffled by Franky's absolute confidence.

"I think we've gone way past appropriate, don't you?" Erica was unable to answer. It was true, they had gone way past appropriate. Some time ago too. But she wouldn't admit it to Franky, even if they both knew it already.

"I mean," she continued, "I've seen the way you look at me, babe." Erica could hardly believe the hubris that was beaming down the phone at her. "When I'm out in the yard, working up a sweat… I bet all you can think about is how much you want me to lay you out on top of that desk you sit at everyday."

Erica's mouth hung slightly open. All complex thought in her brain had stopped. Her tongue rolled around unconsciously inside her mouth. She was trying hard not to think about, not to imagine what Franky had just said. Truthfully she already had. Even before Franky had called her and drawled it into her ear down the line. Whenever she was around this woman it was like she was see-through. All of her hidden thoughts and feelings rose to the surface and presented themselves one by one to the prisoner. Some days all she had to do was walk past Franky and the woman instinctively knew what to shout to get under her skin. With Franky she was hopelessly transparent. Erica clenched her jaw and shut her eyes. She clears her throat, hoping to dislodge the feeling in her stomach that stopped her from speaking. Erica knew she wasn't going to win like this. If you could ever call it winning when Franky was involved. She would have to regain ground with the woman. Or at least hold it.  
"I don't think so, Franky." Quietly she's pleased with herself.

Franky didn't even twitch at Erica's opposition, she was fighting a losing battle. "Oh come on, babe. Don't tell me you've never even thought about it."

"I haven't." Was Erica's cold reply.

"You've never thought about what it would be like, to, you know, do the dirty on your desk?" Erica chuckled in a superior kind of way. The very specific way in which her superiors had laughed at her mistakes and spoken down to her when she was in law school.

"Never."

Silence. Erica couldn't tell whether Franky was unconvinced, or so convinced she was working out the most provocative thing to say next. The Governor began to wonder if testing the woman was such a good idea, after all.

"So me fucking you on that desk with my tongue has never crossed your mind?"

There it was. Erica's body came alive. Her heart raced in her chest. Electricity pulsed from the ear that had heard the words and shimmered as quick as anything all the way to her toes and the tips of her fingers. Her breath came in shallow gasps. She was desperate to keep her uncontrollable body under control. So Franky wouldn't know the power she had over her. The prisoner was irresistible. The way she held herself when she walked, that smile.. That damn smile.

"N-no."

"I don't believe you." She heard Franky's warm laugh spill down the phone line.

"You don't have to believe me, Franky. You do nothing for me." Erica was trying desperately to come across as composed and uninterested.

Through the phone she hears Franky scoff, she can hear the woman growing frustrated. "I've heard that one before, babe." Erica hears Franky sigh, a sign of her growing frustration. If she thought she could just call up the Governor's office and have Erica eating out of her hand, then she was wrong.

"Put your hand on your knee." It was more a command than anything else.

"Franky," Erica sighed, "I don't have time for this."

"Erica, put your hand on your knee." Franky's voice was low. Lower than she had heard it before. Even through the distortion of the phone Erica found it irresistible. She wondered to herself then if that was how she spoke to all the women she'd had. If they'd all been unable to deny the brunette exactly what she wanted. Franky was just the right mix of hard and soft. It was impeccable. Erica's mouth became dry, compulsively she swallowed. She wasn't sure why she was still on the phone with Franky. She could never really say no to her. Hesitantly, slowly, she moved her hand from its resting spot on the table. Erica watched as her hand moved slowly through the air and came to rest on her knee. Through the cloth of her pants she felt the clammy pads of her fingers flex, gently squeezing her knee.

Again she swallowed, "ok."

"Good."

There was a moment of silence while Erica sat patiently listening for her next instruction. Her fingers gently gripped her knee. The same knee she had her whole life. She knew its topography, its form. But now, sitting in her office with Franky Doyle on the phone the simple touch was sending throbbing waves of energy through her. It was exquisite.  
"Move your hand slowly up your thigh." Franky's voice like this made her wild.

Erica doesn't say anything in response, but she does as she's told. She closes her eyes tight, enough to start seeing bursts of colour against her eyelids, and imagines it's Franky's hand travelling up the inside of her leg.

"How does it feel?" Erica can hear that Franky has moved closer to the phone, she can imagine it now - Franky's shoulders hunched toward the phone to block out outside noise. To listen carefully to the sounds she was making.

Erica licks her lips, leaving them glistening. Her chest rises steeply as she draws in breath. "Good." Is all she's able to answer.

She hears Franky laugh close to her ear, the crackle of the phone line distorting it.

When she peaks again Franky's voice has become stronger, more determined. As if having commanding power over Erica had made her become bolder, if such a thing were possible. "Touch yourself."

Erica exhales, sighing at the words. Her body was overcome by waves of electricity that energised her. Hearing Franky say these things was making her want so badly. A gasp escapes her lips when her fingers touch the hot fabric between her legs. Erica groans into the phone. The woman can't see it, but elsewhere in the prison Franky Doyle is biting her bottom lip hard. They shared such a strong visceral connection. Even through all those concrete walls. More exquisite noises were drawn out of the blonde woman as she began moving her fingers against the fabric, breathing steadily.

"Imagine I'm touching you."

Erica smirks, her eyes still closed tightly. Her fingers gripping the phone. Her cheeks were flushed and her breath came quicker than before. The idea of Franky standing on the phone surrounded by the other prisoners and the guards and to be touching herself in her office made her hot. She liked the idea of being caught. It was exciting. "I already am. " With her fingers still moving against her, her eyes closed and wrinkled at the corners Erica lets out a soft moan, "Frankyyy… We can't do this."

On the other end of the line Franky laughs again, her voice is quiet when she speaks. As if listening to Erica getting off in her office was rattling her nonchalance. "I'm not doing anything."

Erica smiles, turning her head to the side. Her toes curled in her shoes and she squirmed so she slides down on her chair. She opens her eyes momentarily to watch her lean hand disappearing underneath the waistband of her pants. Her brows furrow for a short moment while she pushes her hand further down her stomach. Erica inhales sharply when she feels the hot wetness between her legs. She feels the liquid heat coating her fingers as waves of intense pleasure erupt all through her body. "Yes you are," here Erica moans, "…you're fucking me."

Erica can hear Franky groan quietly. Involuntarily. On the other end of the line. She would never control Franky in a battle of wits, but she knew the prisoner had a weakness for women. The Governor could tell the woman was already trying very hard to appear indifferent. Erica imagined Franky moving against her. Her slender and strong fingers pressing hard against her. A guttural moan slipped from her lips and paralysed the prisoner on the line. She was winning some power back over Franky. She needed to strike while the iron was hot, so to speak. "…and it feels so fucking good."

Silence. It was very rarely when Franky was at a loss for words. "Erica…"

"Don't." The Governor, in her present state, was still weary of the prisoner saying her name.

Erica could sense Franky's defences failing, and continued. The fingers between her legs moved steadily as the blonde continued to moan at Franky's phantom touches. Her sentences weaving in and out of audibility.

"I've thought about you so much. I've watched you… with the other women." A long and luxurious moan was drawn from Erica's lips. As if all the pleasure in the world dawned in her and emerged from her mouth as a golden tether.

She heard on the other end of the phone, in the distance, "what is it Franky, bad news?" Erica smiled to herself, the woman was obviously rattled.

"N-no. It's fine. It's all good." The reply came muffled, as if Franky held her hand over the receiver. "What are you thinking about?" She asked into the phone, her voice breathy and fast.

"Your fingers… tongue.." Erica was unable to form sentences while the hand between her legs maintained its pace. "Your mouth… That fucking smile."

Erica could practically hear Franky beaming down the phone. "Yeah?"

The blonde licks her lips as her brow furrows, her body is on fire now. She can feel herself opening to the void of pleasure within her. "Uh-huh."

Over Franky's shoulder Erica hears Vera. "Time's up, Doyle, the other women want to make calls too." The blonde would have liked to scold Vera, but she was just doing her job. Besides, she didn't want Franky drawing too much attention to her phone conversation.

"Yeah, just a sec." Franky called back.

"Doyle, time's up."

Erica chuckled to herself, still breathing heavily. "Time to go, Franky." She moves the receiver from her ear, unaware of the apparent force with which she had been pressing the plastic to her head to hear Franky's words better. Gently she places the phone back down in it's cradle with a click. Slowly she removes the hand from her underwear. Lazily she leans back on her executive chair, lifting her arms behind her head. She sat like this for a time, feeling her chest rise and fall deeply. Her brain surging with images and sounds of Franky.

There is a knock at her door. She turns her head from the window in time to see Vera walking into her office. By the look on her face she was totally oblivious to what had just happened under her watch.

"Good morning, Governor. You're looking well!"

"Good morning Vera. What can I do for you?" Erica smiles at her, and the gesture is returned. She always wondered what brought someone like Vera to work at a prison.

"Franky Doyle for you, she says it's urgent." Vera has a look of sincerity on her face, as if she were deeply concerned at what could have happened to make Franky break her silence to the screws. Erica smiles at the mention of the woman, her tongue absent mindedly pressing against the back of her teeth.

"Very well. Send her in." It was easy in this office to fall into the old routine of business as usual. Even if the situation was anything but business, and unlike anything Erica had experienced before.

Vera nodded before she left the room. Erica could see through the windows to the corridor that she motioned to an unseen figure to enter. Moments later a very confident Franky Doyle strutted into her office, with her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth. No doubt she could see that Erica's cheeks were flushed and the faintly metallic scent lingering in the air.

"Doyle, how can I help you?"


End file.
